We can’t afford to wait for health care any longer 

One of my clients waited 18 months for gynecological surgery that was postponed three times. Each time, she cleared her calendar, rearranged her work schedule, and tried to stay hopeful – only to be cancelled again. Her pain was constant – a dull, relentless ache that made standing, sitting, and even walking difficult. After the third cancellation, she finally decided enough was enough and booked a flight back to Iran – from where she had immigrated 15 years earlier. Within weeks of her arrival, she had her first surgery.

She made this decision knowing she had to leave her job and her life behind – including her husband and the home they just purchased. Fortunately, she stayed with her parents in Iran between surgeries, but her life was turned upside down because she was forced to leave Canada just to get better.

To make matters worse, what was initially supposed to be one surgery turned into four because of the earlier delays. Her condition had deteriorated to the extent that each operation revealed new complications. As a result, she decided to remain in Iran to complete all four surgeries – simply because she felt she had no other choice. A year later, once her final procedure and recovery were complete, she returned to Canada to rebuild her life.

Her condition started as a mild pelvic issue – uncomfortable but manageable. Over the course of the next two years, with delayed diagnosis and surgical delays, it progressed until several organs were affected. The discomfort turned into constant daily pain that kept her awake at night and addicted to pain medication.

According to data from a 2024 article on this site , the average wait time for prolapse surgery at Mount Sinai Hospital in Toronto is 210 days – and many women across Ontario wait well over a year. In some regions, the delay stretches over years, depending on surgical availability and specialist access. By the time my client finally decided to travel abroad for treatment, what should have been one straightforward procedure became a series of complicated reconstructive surgeries.

The saddest part is that her story isn’t unique. It’s part of a growing pattern across Canada – ordinary people forced to interrupt their lives and their work, or even leave the country just to get the medical care they expect to receive here.

The Fraser Institute’s Waiting Your Turn report notes that the median wait time from general practitioner (GP) referral to treatment across all specialties has reached 30 weeks – the longest ever recorded. But this figure doesn’t include the time it takes to see a GP in the first place, or to complete the diagnostic tests often required before a referral can even be made.

Updated figures are expected in December, but based on historical trends, there’s little reason to believe the numbers will improve.

We talk about these delays as if they’re normal now – part of what it means to live in Canada. But when you’re the one waiting, this new reality isn’t acceptable, it’s destructive.

Each month of waiting adds new complications. Physical pain turns into emotional strain, and daily life slowly becomes harder to manage. Over time, hope fades, confidence falters, and independence slips away because the system can’t keep pace.

The Fraser Institute estimates that Canadians collectively lost more than $5 billion in wages last year while waiting for treatment – a staggering reflection of how costly delayed care has become. But it’s not just about the number of patients or doctors – it’s about the way the system itself is designed.

Canada’s health-care system wasn’t built to function the way we need it to today.

Canada’s health-care system wasn’t built to function the way we need it to today. And it’s not just a capacity issue; it’s a structural issue. We call it a national system, but in truth, it’s a collection of provincial frameworks connected by legislation, not by logic. The result is fragmentation: policies, funding models, and processes that differ across provinces, creating the very inequalities the system was meant to prevent.

Hospitals generally are funded based on maintaining occupancy rather than achieving efficiency or expanding capacity to meet demand. Physicians, too, are constrained by a compensation model that measures volume instead of continuity – leaving many unable to provide the kind of follow-up or preventative care they know their patients need. It’s a system that frustrates both sides: patients who can’t get care, and physicians who no longer have the flexibility to deliver it. And prevention – the one area that could meaningfully reduce demand – remains chronically underfunded because it doesn’t fit neatly into the public billing model.

Recent developments like Québec’s Bill 2 – which ties physician compensation and performance to new government targets – show how political reform often focuses on control, not coordination. While the intent is to improve access, policies like this risk deepening the very inefficiencies they aim to fix and show how health care remains shaped by politics – fragmented, reactive, and misaligned with patient reality. We have created a system where access isn’t guaranteed – it’s rationed.

Until we address the way health care is organized, funded, and delivered – not just how much we spend on it – the waitlist will continue to grow, no matter how much money or staff we add. This is why Canadians can no longer afford to wait for care. The timelines are becoming critical for too many people, and the message is clear: we can’t keep waiting for the system to fix itself – or hoping it will be fixed by the time we need it.

As a risk management consultant, I’ve spent the past 25 years helping clients build proactive protection strategies. But over the past decade, after witnessing stories like the one above, the blind spot has become clear. In Canada, we plan for everything that may happen after a medical crisis – income replacement, expense reimbursement, even death – but not for delayed access to care itself.

This isn’t the fault of the financial industry or the public; two decades ago, this wasn’t even a recognizable risk. It’s the consequence of a struggling system and the carefully managed optimism maintained by politicians who need Canadians to believe it will get better on its own. That reassurance may get votes, but it has also delayed the reality check we need to prepare and protect ourselves.

That’s why I’ve changed the way I approach risk management to include Access Risk – the risk of not being able to access the system when you need it most. It’s the missing layer in every personal and financial plan – and the one most likely to undo everything else you’ve worked for.

Let’s be clear: this isn’t a conversation about privatizing health care or criticizing the public system. It’s about facing reality. Delayed care has become a predictable negative factor – and in my business, what’s predictable must be planned for. Like any other risk that leads to loss, delayed care creates physical, mental, and financial consequences that ripple far beyond the medical issue itself.

And speaking of the financial side – if this is now our new reality, one where many Canadians must seek treatment outside the public system and end up paying twice for health care, then it’s time to rethink what that really means for the average taxpayer. My client who returned to Iran is a good example. Although she remained covered under her private policy there, she still had to pay deductibles and cover out-of-pocket costs for airfare and medication because she was no longer employed – not to mention the income she lost while away. The only financial relief available to her here was the small medical expense tax credit, which offered little after the required threshold deduction.

That’s the real gap. When Canadians are forced to seek care privately – whether abroad or at home – those expenses shouldn’t be treated as optional. Updating our tax framework to allow broader health-care deductions won’t fix the waitlist, but it would acknowledge the reality that many Canadians are already paying part of the cost of the system’s delays. We shouldn’t be penalized for taking responsibility when the system can’t deliver.

My client came home from Iran healthy, grateful, and relieved – but disillusioned. She loves this country. She just couldn’t afford to keep waiting in line to get better.

Canada’s health-care system remains one of our greatest national ideals. But ideals don’t shorten waitlists. Pride doesn’t pay the bills of those sidelined by delay. We can’t fix everything overnight, but we can start by acknowledging that waiting has a cost – and that pretending otherwise is no longer sustainable. Because when it comes to your wellbeing, waiting isn’t a strategy.